Mc-Dumbledore
by Me2468
Summary: Sirius Black writes a short (very true) tale about his two professors and there one night of passion... in his eyes.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Mc-Dumbledore.

A short story by Sirius Black.

Written by Sirius Black.

Idea from Sirius Black.

Quill inked by Sirius Black.

Quill bought by Sirius Black.

Directed by Sirius black

Illustrated by Sirius Black

Inspiration from Sirius Black's teachers, that are so uninteresting compared to him we can't be bothered to name them.

The elderly professor entered the staff room with a steaming mug of raspberry tea. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he sat down upon an interesting chair. This interesting chair had been given to him by his favourite student and prodigy, Serious Back (Not to be confused with the author Sirius Black). This old man however, did not see Serious, or as he affectionately called him, Seri, as a teacher's pet, rather as a prime top-notch student who could be taught nothing more, being an expert already in magic. Back also had great hair, but that was beside the point.

This ageing bloke's name was Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore, despite being old and rather wrinkly, had a knack of picking the students with the best hair. For example, Serious Back. Back's friend Miss Potter (not to be confused with the author's best friend_, Mr._ Potter) had the most outrageous hair the headmaster had ever seen, and considering this man was extremely old this was a massive state of affairs. Miss Potter barely ever brushed her hair and looked like a (_how to say this in a Dumbledore fashion_) nitwit for not doing so. After continuously running her fingers through this birds nest, one would have thought they'd be reduced to stubs (for a reason the author, named Sirius Black if you forgot, doesn't care to explain or ask Moony to explain).

Albus Dumbledore sat with his raspberry tea in one hand, while its counterpart ran through the previously grey but now silver, beard.

One extra detail; Dumbledore was a nudist.

Professor McGonagall, who had just started this similar hobby, entered the room in which he too sat. She sat on the oldest chair, hand carved by Serious Black-no sorry, Back. Surprisingly enough, McGonagall also shared Dumbledore's platonic fascination with this young, dashing lad. For a moment the pair stared, fixated at a rather random point, a rather far-away look in their eyes, before catching hold of themselves, suddenly intent on each other's faces, not (though they both deeply wanted too) looking below this point.

"So, Serious Back?" The male decided to start the conversation.

"Ahh, yes. If he were 50 years older or, indeed, if I was 50 years younger..." The female lounged back on her chair (the hand carved one), pouting her lips slightly, and the faraway look back in her eyes.

"Me too, me too. Of course I do not know if I would be worthy of him. That does make him really, really special, because I am Albus Dumbledore, greatest sorcerer, like ever."

"Apart from Serious Back, you mean?" Her austere expression appeared as he almost degraded her idol.

"My dear lady," he seemed shocked at her face, "I thought that went without saying."He tapped her thigh playfully, but was swiftly reminded of something the aforementioned hero had said to him. "_Hath thou, not thou, 'cause thy hath thee, thou thy hath thee, thou thee_."

Tears welled up in the pairs eyes. "Do I even need to ask who said it? Back is a poet better then Shaker-something, a greater writer then Charlie Dick-something, a better lover then Merlin himself."

"How would you know this?"

"I get around." She purred slightly under her breath. Dumbledore thought she looked mighty sexy in her birthday suit, perhaps not as sexy as certain younger student of his might have looked, but still mighty sexy. She winked at him.

He winked back.

She winked twice.

He repeated the gesture.

She winked twice with her left eye and once with her right.

He winked twice with his left eye and once with his right.

She winked left, left, right, right, left, left, left, right, left, both, left, left and finally right.

He winked right, left, left, both, left, right, left, left, left, right, right, left and finally left.

The pair then proceeded to have sex.

**Sirius Black set his quill aside and passed his work of art to James Potter. James Potter had enough time to read it through five times, before Peter Pettigrew (who was reading over his shoulder, the nosey bludger) could comprehend what the title **_**Mc-Dumbledore**_** meant. Potter slid it out of Pettigrew's eyeshot before muttering to Black.**

"**A little bit unrealistic, don't you find mate." From the shocked hurt on his friend's face, James was able to gather that Sirius had understood what he had meant. "I mean, Dumbledore is gay."**

"**Better change McGonagall to** **Snivellus, then."**


End file.
